Bai Xingling waited for quite a while.

A mysterious pure white light gate slowly appeared, the door opened, first with a dazzling light, and then a Peach Blossom Immortal Realm came into view.

A courtyard filled with flowers.

A white-clothed artist was painting with a brush, depicting a scene of the "Bone King's Coronation Painting," which entirely captured the moment the Bone King Emperor ascended the throne.

The painting seemed to contain an entire world, countless lines sketching human figures, constantly moving.

In the image, a group of roaring Dragon Race and Giant Shell Elder faced off.

And from on high, the Bone King Emperor was giving a speech, proclaiming the founding declaration of the century.

On the human race's ark, Doukou Hong was collecting dragon blood, and Xinyi Baisan was stroking his beard, laughing heartily.

On the ark, the Sword Fairy Dizzy watched, conversing with an artist...

The figures were as intricate as ants, resembling their true forms in appearance and demeanor, even moving and speaking within the painting.

A vivid depiction of a myriad of lives, capturing the waves of history.

"Master... your painting skills have grown stronger again."

Bai Xingling showed a look of admiration, "I heard that Jiu Shui often enjoys painting but can never match the master's level."

He understood one thing clearly.

The master's painting skills, throughout the history of the Nine-State Four Seas, were unparalleled.

"Back in the day, Jiu Shui battled the world, and happened upon me to learn painting, only grasping three parts of Essence, Qi, and Spirit."

The artist dipped his brush in ink, continuing his painting:

"I suppose now he is dead within the [Chronicles of Time], still practicing painting daily, aiming to surpass that afternoon of his youth, when he was amazed by my work."

He spoke casually: 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

"Even burying him within [Chronicles of Time] was just a piece of my sequential painted wall from years ago, created using your ancestor's husk as brush, ink, and paper, affixed to the walls of the Imperial Palace, recording the river of time, honoring heroes of the era."

Bai Xingling listened to his master's teachings, silently watching his master paint.

In the painting, the master artist was painting on a boat, with the Sword Fairy from Ximen City chattering beside, seemingly exchanging thoughts.

Did the master venture out recently?

In the painting, the master seemed to casually hand his creation to the Sword Fairy.

To know, the master always remained secluded in slumber, only stepping out once every tens of thousands, even hundred-thousands of years, barely concerning himself with the transformations of the outside world.

This century of Xi Rong rising into the world, what does it count for?

Although the waves look mighty, for the scale of time, they don't even count as a nap.

Every time the master steps out, those he favors are historic talents, destined to open eras, become great saints of their generation.

Does the master truly favor the Sword Fairy?

Remember, the last recipient of a painting was Jiu Shui, who ultimately opened an era!

Why does the Sword Fairy rank equal to Jiu Shui?

Candidly, he Bai Xingling, serving as tributor at Ximen Academy, is merely working under the Sword Fairy, finding this woman... somewhat clever but lacking in exceptional qualities.

Perhaps, this painting is not for the Sword Fairy... but for the hidden Xirong Manor Master behind her?

If it's for that mysterious saintly force, it would be deserved of a master's gift.

As Bai Xingling continued to fantasize, whispers reached his ear, "What brings you here this time?"

"Master, I've been experiencing some Qi Fortune issues these years."

Bai Xingling briefly explained the situation, then shared good news with his master, "Master, your ancestral old friends have all resurrected!"

After hearing the general course, the artist also fell into silence.

How did they come back to life?

His mind suddenly froze.

Could they have been feigning death back then?

But with such a number, how could they hide it from me?

Memories so long and distant forced him to take out a memory diary.

The diary, made of soft folded paper, contained a series of paintings where he had once recorded memories.

He flipped through the diary, searching for detailed specifics from that epoch, precise to expressions, demeanors, actions... memories returned to ancient times.

But!

Still unable to find any flaws in their feigned deaths.

"Still nothing, could they have acted so genuinely? Or perhaps, to conceal their feigned deaths, they used Divine Techniques to erase memories... thus avoiding flaws."

The artist fell into deep self-doubt.

What is this?

Giant Shell Elder resurrected? Standing on his own ancestral grave, passionately narrating the grand feats of ancient feigned death ancestral graves?

Enough.

Since they're emerging, it signifies that an era is arriving.

"I also should venture out."

"Meet the old friends resurrected from the past days, see how they've come back to life... as well as the intriguing young saintly Xirong Manor Master?" he revealed a meaningful smile, setting aside his brush.

...

...

Chronicles of Time.

Amidst ancient imperial tombs.

"What?"

"Ancient history, there's even such terrifying existence."

Some ancient pseudo-human Emperors conversed secretly.

Since a leak occurred a hundred years ago, revealing some of their Divine Techniques, they left some clones as informants outside, thereby gathering some intelligence.

Their possession as pseudo-human was already shocking news.

They discovered they're pseudo-human?

They always believed themselves Human Race, which shattered their worldview.

Most troubling was, a certain pseudo-human Emperor possibly sealed their memory as pseudo-human, hiding among them.

Who is this person?

Given the ability to conceal pseudo-human memories, they surely tampered with them!

The previous Human God had tampered with them, setting their meridians into puppet threads, causing them to dread fighting the Human God, leaving past Emperors with hidden sects, forced to hide in tombs.

Now this memory-concealing pseudo-human Emperor surely is another deceitful "Human God," who set hidden sects during their youth.

"This pseudo-human Emperor, among us."

"Precisely who is it?"

"Are there other Emperors, who before entering tombs, tampered with subsequent generations? Those who tampered with us descendants?"

"I've done it, but have others also tampered?"

...

Within this Imperial Mausoleum of Human Race, everyone wore grim expressions.

Guarding against each other's underlying cards.

Especially now, this newly received news was explosive.

"What? In even more distant history, exists an even more frightening ancestral manipulator? Manipulating the past, striving to resurrect in the future?"

"Before dying, we orchestrated tricks to live a second life, tampering before entering tombs... and those ancestral races orchestrated tricks using life tombs to live a second life?"

Their successive tomb flames ignited in massive waves.